AUSTIN:

I was Austin Moon. I was a twenty-two-year-old doctor. I had dreamed of being a doctor ever since I was a kid. The summer before I started seventh grade, I was selected to do community service for school at the Mount Sinai Medical Center as a volunteer nurse, which I obviously enjoyed, and plus growing up, my favorite TV shows were Grey's Anatomy, Scrubs, Dr. Oz, House and The Doctors, I had always loved helping people, the human body and anatomy system was very interesting to me, my grandmother was a retired gynecologist and I spent most of my free time researching health and wellness, reading the books and watching the films and TV shows, and the more I read or watched, the more I was interested. I hated bragging about myself, but I graduated high school at sixteen and at the end of my sophomore year (when I graduated) and offered a scholarship at the University of Miami because I had such a high grade point average, in all of my classes but particularly in math and science, which are skills that are required for a medical practitioner, which was perfect because I had always had a passion for helping people and I had always loved science and diseases and illnesses had intrigued me very much.

Not to mention, I graduated college at nineteen, while I did a two year medical internship, and I graduated medical school back in June, and I had gotten my medical license not long after that, and I had been working at the South Miami Hospital for three months now, and I had a high salary, but why I really wanted to be a doctor was because I wanted to cure sick people. Now people were calling me Doctor Moon. Doctor Moon. I loved hearing those words. I had seen every kind of illness, every kind of injury, I knew how to perform tests and I knew how to deal with illnesses and injuries, and only a few of them had gotten the better of me.

I looked at this very pretty and sick patient who was sitting on the table in my office, coughing up a storm. I realized, wait a minute, my patient is Ally Dawson, my celebrity crush! I loved her music, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen and she had a very sweet personality. I saw the saliva spill from her mouth, and it had phlegm, followed by what looked like blood. She went through another fit of coughing and hacking.

I asked her,

"Hello, Allison. I'm Doctor Austin Moon. What seems to be the problem?"

She coughed and hacked again, and she said to me in a hoarse voice,

"I think I have the flu."

Ally went into another fit of coughing and hacking and I could see her run to the sink and spit out some phlegm with a bit of blood. I saw her rinse it down the sink, and she said to me hoarsely,

"I'm sorry I just spit in your sink, Doctor Moon."

Ally could have retched in that sink for all the rat's asses I gave. She was obviously feeling like shit. What I cared about was how sick she was, and what I could do to help her heal. I patted the table, and I said,

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. Here, sit back on the table."

She sat on the table and I told her,

"I'm going to need to ask you to take your layers off for a minute so I can check your heartbeat properly."

I took my stethoscope from around my neck, put the eartips in my ears and I put the chestpiece on her back.

"Slow, deep, breaths,"

I said to her.

Of course her breathing was interfered with by her thick coughing and hacking. I put the chestpiece and drum on her heart, feeling her heartbeat. Her heartbeat was normal. I took my sphygmomanometer and I wrapped it around her arm. Her blood pressure was one hundred and ten over eighty. Her blood pressure was fine, too. I took the ear thermometer and I put a small cover on it and stuck it in her ear. I pushed the button and the thermometer beeped in ten seconds. Her fever was pretty bad. She went into a coughing and hacking fit again. I said to Ally,

"You have a fever of one hundred and three point nine. Fevers that high can be dangerous, so I'm glad you sought medical attention about that. In the meantime, what other symptoms have you had?"

Ally coughed again, and said hoarsely,

"My throat is killing me, I lost my appetite and I threw up several times in the past twenty hours, I have chills, today I had bloody vomiting, abdominal pain, runny nose, and one of my roommates checked my throat and said my tonsils were huge."

I said,

"Alright. I'm going to go wash my hands and then take a look at it, OK?"

She went into a thick coughing and hacking fit and croaked,

"OK."

I washed my hands, put on a pair of rubber gloves, took out a tongue depressor, took out a small flashlight from my lab coat pocket and said to her,

"Open wide and say ahhh."

She said hoarsely,

"Ahh."

I turned on my flashlight, put the depressor down on her tongue and looked at her throat. God damn I couldn't believe how big her tonsils were and I could believe even less how red and swollen her throat looked (even with pus), her lymph nodes were large and swollen. I had never seen a case of tonsillitis that was this bad. Granted, I'd treated colds, the flu, strep throat, bronchitis, milder cases of tonsillitis, and even tuberculosis before, but I had never seen a throat infection so bad in my life.

"Ms. Dawson, it appears you have tonsillitis. May I see your South Miami card?"

She croaked,

"Sure."

And went into another coughing and hacking fit. I took my rubber gloves off and washed my hands again. She grabbed her wallet and pulled out her South Miami ID card. I looked at the number and typed it in, as well as her name. It had a laundry list of her immunization records and her visits throughout her life. I saw much of them revolved around illnesses where a sore throat was present.

"If you don't mind me asking, how many sore throats have you had this year?"

She coughed again and cleared her throat.

"I get at least three to four sore throats a year. Ever since I was six years old. This year I've had five- one after another."

Poor girl. She was twenty-two years old like me and she just said she'd had sore throats since she was a child. Even with messy hair and kind of bloodshot eyes, Ally Dawson was still beautiful, even sexy. But I couldn't kiss her because she was ill and very contagious (I was a doctor. I knew how contagious diseases like this were) and it would be unprofessional on so many levels for a doctor to kiss his own patient.

I told her,

"I think you're going to need tonsillectomy."

She looked a little taken aback.

"Tonsillectomy?"

I heard her say in a scratchy voice, as if she'd never heard of tonsillectomy before.

I said,

"Don't worry. Tonsillectomy is a very simple surgery."

She seemed at ease now.

"Doctor Moon, in the meantime, how should I treat my throat?"

I told her,

"I recommend plenty of bed rest and fluids, hot and cold. Do you have anyone to take care of you until you're fully recovered?"

She hoarsely replied,

"Yes, I live with my best friend and her boyfriend."

I said,

"OK, good. You deserve someone to take care of you."

She went into another coughing fit and she stood up and she went into another coughing and hacking fit that was so bad that she looked like she could barely maintain her balance. She fainted into my arms.

"Take care of yourself, OK?"

I heard her say,

"Yes, doctor. I appreciate your help."

I said,

"Here. Don't leave without my card. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to contact me."

The South Miami Hospital staff, in each and every department, was always issued their own card. My card said, Doctor Austin M. Moon, MD (AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know Austin's middle name is Monica on the show, but I decided to make his middle name Michael instead of Monica. More masculinity haha), Baptist Health Medical Group, The South Miami Hospital address, number, my fax, my cell phone number and my email and I printed out her visit summary, with why she was here and how she should treat it.

"Thank you, Doctor Moon."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Dawson. I hope you recover, and you can come in next week for the operation. And not that this is relevant, but Ally Dawson, I'm a big fan of your music, and I think you're beautiful, and I'm glad I had the privilege of treating you."

I saw her blush and smile before going into another coughing and hacking.

"Thank you, Doctor Moon. You're cute yourself."

Son of a bitch! Did my celebrity crush and newest patient just call me cute?

"Thanks. And remember, bed rest and hot fluids."

She exited my office. After visiting the doctors, the patients could rate the Doctor visit they had on the South Miami Hospital app that was kind of like Yelp in a way, and I had a feeling I was going to get a good review from Ally. I had gotten plenty of good reviews, not to be cocky. After all, my medical career was one of the most important things in the world to me. I wanted to help heal those ailments in people, regardless of age.

I couldn't even express the amount of sympathy I had for this poor, frail, pretty girl. She had the worst case of tonsillitis I could have ever possibly seen. It was my lunch break, and the staff, as well as the patients, had access to the cafeteria. I saw my best friend since I was five years old, Dez Wade, walk in, with his usual happy-go-lucky demeanor. Unlike me, he was planning to be a director, he was attending film school at University of Miami, and he had a part-time job at the apple store because he was amazing with tech stuff.

He yelled to me,

"Hey, buddy!"

I said cheerfully,

"Hey, buddy!"

We did our whatup handshake and I asked him,

"Whatcha doin' here?"

He said,

"I had a day off today, and I thought I'd come visit my clinical best friend!"

I said,

"Well, it's great to see you, buddy. Let me go grab some chow and I'll join you."

"No need. I brought Olive Garden."

Dez was the best. He knew how much I loved Olive Garden.

"Aww, thanks, buddy."

I sat down with him on a pillar, and I discovered he'd brought me some chicken and cheese flat bread pizza and a ceasar salad. I took a bite and I said,

"Hey, buddy, guess what?"

Dez said,

"What?"

I said,

"You'll never guess who my patient was today!"

"Who?"

"OK, who have I had a crush since like ninth grade?"

"Ally Dawson. The singer and model?"

I said,

"Yup."

Dez asked,

"What was wrong with her?"

I said,

"She has tonsillitis. Apparently she's had sore throats since she was six."

"Poor girl."

I said,

"To me, I want her to be more than just my patient. I'm in love with this girl, I definitely care about her, and I feel so bad that she has these kinds of symptoms."

"What are her symptoms?"

"She came in, telling me she had abdominal pain, bloody vomiting, and she had one of the worst coughs I've ever seen, not to mention a dangerously high fever."

"That's scary! Is she OK?"

I said,

"She's sick, but she doesn't have acute tonsillitis, which can be fatal if left untreated. I've seen tonsillitis before, but never this bad."

"Will she need surgery?"

I said,

"Yeah. I told her to come back next week for to have her tonsils removed."

Dez told me,

"I knew you'd always be a doctor ever since you volunteered at the hospital in the seventh grade."

I chortled.

"I do love what I do. And I don't even care about the high salary. I just want to help sick people."

Dez said to me,

"You've always been a great doctor. Even before you were a doctor."

"Thanks, man."

I said.

I took my own advice. I got the flu shot every year, I always cleaned my instruments when I needed to, I always washed my hands thoroughly when I needed to, I got enough sleep, I didn't smoke or use drugs, I only drank occasionally, I had a good diet, I stayed hydrated, I got enough exercise, I could go on. I told all my patients, regardless of age (I worked with children and adults) to do the same.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I will be working on this as well as Trish's pregnant life. I'm so glad everyone likes it! Kisses and love for my fans!